


the space you left.

by LittleRouset



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, gay nerds, kiyoko is a writer, kiyoko is actually just a hopeless romantic, kiyoko just wants to remember how to write beautiful things again, no actual plot, sad girls without explanation, sorry that i didnt give more details, this is my first ever fic, why is it that when i try to write fic it turns out sad but hopelessy cheesy, yachi is still a small confused dweeb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:35:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8230118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRouset/pseuds/LittleRouset
Summary: Kiyoko Shimizu is a strong girl, but she never thought she would have to be endure something like this. To love and have lost, where does it leave you? ((In which Kiyoko is just an aspiring writer beginning her time at Uni, and not every love is perfect. Sometimes love is tragic, and painful, and you can't help but tearfully write until your heart aches.))





	

**Author's Note:**

> So.  
> Here I am, serving up my first ever attempt at fic. I so apologize, this truly is barely edited and I'm posting it before I even have had anyone beta it.
> 
> To be honest, this was a bit of a personal release for me. I'm just a small girl in her AP lit highschool class that was told to mess around with sentence syntax, but of course everything I end up writing is somehow tragic.
> 
> Anyways I would love love loveeeee feedback, find my info in my profile :)
> 
> ((im sorry if this is trash. ily if you're reading it, thank you))
> 
> ((I know it's cheesy and not very detailed in plot, iDkK))

It had been so long. 

Kiyoko’s expression was a familiar mask of nothing as she lay on the red couch in her small apartment. She was quite the sight; a slender, icy decoration in stark contrast to the warm colors of the apartment surrounding her. She wore a beautiful blue dress, languid on her stoic figure. The dress held taut, hugging her body to it’s utmost flattery. Piano played delicately in the background, the only source of light flooding from the moon and filtering through her window. 

Kiyoko’s negativity was palpable in the air, but there was no one around to recognize it. The slightest ghost of a frown danced across her mouth; noticeable only by those who would pay very close attention.

As _she_ always had. 

Kiyoko’s eyes were clear and cold as newly frozen ice, focused pointedly on the notebook that adorned the coffee table aside her. It had just been _so long_. There were too many what-if’s involved. What if it hurt more? What if she couldn’t conjure the words any longer? Was trying worth the crippling depression that she would simply fall further into? What if it reminded her of those chocolatey eyes, that gazed at her with such adoration, such lo-

She couldn’t. It had been too long.

Had it?

Kiyoko sat up slowly, reaching a hand to readjust her glasses. Her hair spilled in a tumble around her shoulders, it’s shine a false facade that spoke “beauty” in the shallowest sense of the word. Just as “happy” met her lips in a shimmering pink gloss, “sexy” held her eyes with full lashes and dark shadow, “confidence” portraying itself in the low diving neck of her dress. 

“Pain”, screamed the mascara stains that rolled down her cheeks. 

It had been a rough day for Kiyoko, rougher than she would have liked. All there is to say about it is this;

Uni boys are a disaster. She’d like it if someone would explain why she still bothered. 

Then again, the days that she stumbled through at Uni typically were difficult, ever since Kiyoko had lost her spark. 

Her writing had become either dull and inorganic, or so utterly depressing that every expedition to create something new spiraled down in the same way. 

So she took a break. She was _taking_ a break, and she only found herself more lost.

Kiyoko had thought she needed to be distracted, but tonight had only shown her once again what she already knew; nobody was the same, and nobody could fill the hole that wrenched itself deep in her stomach. 

Kiyoko’s eyes filled, and letting out an uncharacteristically loud sob, she slowly pulled her knees to her chest. Her hands made their ways onto her scalp, earnestly gripping and pulling until there was the hint of pain she had been craving, needing, wanting- 

“I need you to breathe for me”.

The phrase jumped through her mind, Hitoka’s warm voice a distant memory she had been trying so hard to come to terms with.

Kiyoko’s hand shook as she placed it over her mouth, breathing deeply, remembering the way Hitoka’s hands used to run circles over her back, fingertips trailing lightly over her neck, through her hair; calming her in a way nobody else could.

Her hands fell, eyes sliding shut, holding for a moment, then returning open. Trembling, she reached for the notebook and pen Hito-

Yachi, she bitterly corrected herself. 

Yachi had given her. 

Fingers grazing over the maroon leather of the bind, Kiyoko allowed herself a minuscule, sad smile. The notebook held happier times, it held love, and smiles, and laughter-

It held memories. 

 

Dare she? Dare she open it- only to fill it with brute, ungraceful words to taint the delicacy it held now? 

But honestly?

What the _fuck_ did she have left to lose?

Uncapping the pen with her mouth, she spit the top across the room. Who the _fuck cared anymore_?

(Kiyoko had met her breaking point today.)

Yet upon reopening her notebook for the first time in three months, she hesitated. 

Her lip trembled, but she had come too far to give up now. What could she do, spend another night with words bouncing around her head violently, staring at her ceiling?

Even if the words couldn’t be beautiful, she could still write them, right?

For once, couldn’t she just write something real?

 

Titling it, she began.

 

“the space you left.

I’ve been trying to fill the space you left.  
I’ve been trying to fill the space you left in me in me with empty touches, fingers too hungry, eyes too dark to be yours. too clever, they all hold the same motives that yours never once did.  
sure, i feel. echoes of you bounce into my being if i simply close my eyes and pretend. their presence stretches a web over the gaping hole in my gut that you took with you when you left.  
but they don’t touch me the same.  
you touched me like i _mattered_ , not my body. me.  
you touched me like the delicate piece of stained glass you know I am. you were eager to _see_ ; eager to appreciate, to love, to hold, to-  
no one has ever touched me that way.  
_they don’t touch me that way_  
their hands itch to feel, not to caress. they wish to force my fire with a match, not intertwine their sparks with me and light the flame that is my breath.  
like the dragon you know i am. 

i guess thats the problem. they don’t know me, and nobody does.

nobody but you.

so tell me, fucking _tell me_ , how could you leave?

you left me alone in this world, the fullness of your lips whispering dangerous promises of future love.

it is dark, and you are no longer here to be the fire to my ice. you’re no longer here to light up what used to feel like  
_my_ life.

you promised.”

 

Fuck, what was Kiyoko pretending. 

 

“yachi, you fucking promised you would never leave me. 

across the world, you left with barely a week’s warning? 

promising to return,

REFUSING to answer my calls-

 _why did you leave me_?

why would you chase him, why, why, why?

i gave you all of me. 

i want nothing more than to hear your voice again,

to breathe you in again, to feel your skin, to know what you meant,

to be inside your head again. 

but now i am alone. now i am alone, and you don’t love me, you don’t love me, you don’t love me-“

 

Kiyoko had begun to scrawl, pen pressing into paper with ferocity.

 

“you told me you couldn’t love me because you had to love someone else.

if only i knew, if only i had known what a pain it was to let yourself love.

here i am, filling myself with more emptiness each new smile carves into me.

is there an escape?

if only i could find one.”

Kiyoko’s heart was unraveling. The words she wrote. They weren’t ‘beautiful’. They weren't supposed to be. She no longer was trying to be for someone else. Couldn’t she just be honest with herself?

“someday i hope to hold you again.  
someday i hope to feel the hot exhale of your soul on the slope of my jaw again.

feel the trail of your fingers on the small of my back. 

someday i wish that you will set me on fire and i will never have to doubt the caress of my name on your lips, never have to doubt the passion that you show, never have to doubt the way you love me; again. 

i wish to remember what it is like to not be afraid to snap- to shatter.

i wish to remember what it is like to not be afraid to love.

i wish to only have a chance to love you again, to do it better this time. 

i would love you with every gentle whisper, screaming hate, withering sob.

 

i would love you as the moon loves her sun,  
if only you had given me the chance to chase you around the earth.”

 

Kiyoko’s paper had begun to stain, fat drops of water gracelessly plopping onto the page. Hand shaking, she allowed the pen to slip. 

The distant piano had long stopped, leaving the room echoing with the force of her breathing.

Lips parted, Kiyoko took a deep breath. She was empty now, the release a long time coming. Sitting back, she let out a deep sigh, closing her eyes for a moment before-

She practically flew out of her seat and onto her feet, the intrusive blare of her cell phone interrupting her thoughts as it vibrated across the kitchen counter. Just her luck, isn’t it. Kiyoko wiped her cheeks half heartedly and soundlessly moved across the room, picking up and answering her phone without a glance.

 

“Yes?” Kiyoko’s voice rang through the room, raspy in contrast to quiet. 

She paused, hearing the surprised breath on from the other side of the call. When there was no response, she tried again, sturdier this time.

“Can I help you?”

“Shimizu?” The warm, timid and familiar voice filtered through, drifting it’s way into her ears.

It had been so long.

Kiyoko stood, mouth agape, simply as a loss for words.

Yachi’s impeccable, ridiculously coincidental timing struck once again.

“Shimi- Kiyoko I… are you home?” Yachi practically whispered from across the line.

She had called her Kiyoko. There were very, very few who could. 

“Yeah, I- I’m home, I-“ Kiyoko’s voice was a similar low whisper, though she wanted to scream. She wanted to be angry, she wanted to say everything she hadn’t been able to say.

But it had been so long, and her heart was swelling at the soft sound of Yach-

Well.

Hitoka’s voice. 

“I’m scared, Kiyoko.” Hitoka’s voice was shaking, dancing in a similar way to what seemed to be Kiyoko’s entire body. 

Only Hitoka held the power to make Kiyoko tremble with a simple whisper of her name. 

There was a brief silence before Kiyoko replied. 

“...Why?”

Kiyoko held her breath. Had she just imagined that? Still holding the phone to her ear, she turned towards the hollow sound of a fist against wood.

As if walking on glass, Kiyoko approached the door, unable to calm her rapidly rising heartbeat. Reaching up, she unlocked the door, craning it open just the slightest bit.

Kiyoko stepped back. She was couldn’t bring herself to fully open the door, subconsciously ending the call on her phone. 

 

“Kiyoko…?” Her voice called from the opposing side, real as ever, nothing like in her dreams. 

"Hitoka" she breathed out. "It's been... months." Kiyoko couldn't fathom it. Why was she here? Now? At a time like this? Using her first name, like nothing had ever changed? It pained her to admit just how much that name rolling out of her beautiful mouth felt.

“Kiyoko, I’m so sorry” Hitoka’s voice broke, and the door opened a bit more. “I’m so sorry I left you. I’m so sorry. I never could- I only thought- I didn’t-“ She hiccuped, rambling, pushing it open all the way.

She was small, and real, and gazing up at Kiyoko with the most beautiful brown eyes to ever face this planet. 

Hitoka stepped forward cautiously, as if scared to be bitten. 

“Kiyoko, I..”

Hitoka’s hands shook, clutching the hem of her short yellow sundress.

“I love you.”

Kiyoko tensed, unable to comprehend the full scale of the situation. Her voice was small, hollow.

"This can't be happening..."

With Kiyoko's reply, frozen in shock, mascara tracks still grazing her cheeks-  
Hitoka took another step forward.

“I still love you.”

Kiyoko trembled. 

"You say that now but..."

Another step.

“I have _always_ loved you, Kiyoko.”

And Kiyoko shattered. A million pieces of stained glass exploding at once, the carefully and meticulously built mirage of her strength falling to tatters around her. Kiyoko met Hitoka halfway, reaching down to embrace her tightly, hold her again, hear her again, feel her again- love her again. 

And she did. 

“I love you too, Hitoka." She breathed. "I still do."

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this?? im sorry if i am terribly and hopelessly cheesy??
> 
> yeah that end there i just really needed some classic happy ending.
> 
> lmk if you want a possible smut chapter of these two...? i feel like there isnt enough kiyoyachi in the world and i intend to start writing some so!
> 
> i adore any and all critique and discussion, please comment or catch me on my social media in my profile <3
> 
> honestly i have wanted to begin writing my own fic for so long, but it's surprisingly intimidating and scary to post? and yet? im posting?
> 
>  
> 
> let me know what you think, and thank you again :)
> 
> ((aka the fic where coco remembers what it's like to lose someone you love))


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